The Plans of that Summer
by scrumptiousinternetllama
Summary: Albus is dreading returning home for the summer holidays, but when he gets home someone changes his mind. Is this all Albus needed? Or is it too good to be true? Written for Round three of the QLFC!
**AN: Pride of Portree**

 **Beater 1: Pride**

 **Optional Prompts: (word) cosmos, (word) destiny, (quote) 'All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us' - JRR Tolkien**

 **Word Count: 2001 - 2250** **(Google Docs: 2240, Microsoft Word: 2244)**

The Plans of that Summer

Albus looked out upon the grounds of Hogwarts. All was quiet and peaceful. The calm of the setting juxtaposed with the setting sun, which was creating a riotous display of oranges and reds. It was as if a fire was raging in the skies. The spectacle dominated all thought with its magnificence; there was nothing to distract from it. It was power. It was passion… His train of thought led him back to the plans he had made that summer. The enthusiasm he felt for them rivalled that of any school project he had ever undertaken. Or even any projects outside of the school. The young man, he had made them with and his blonde hair and bright smile flashed through his mind at odd moments of the day, causing an unwanted grin to appear every now and again. It must have made him look quite silly - grinning at thin air.

He remembered how he had been dreading that summer. The term at school had been brilliant albeit a bit stressful and the thought of returning home for so long was…unattractive. Leaving the loud corridors and companionable dormitories to return to the sombre, dark house his family lived in, made him shudder. It did not feel like home anymore. A flash of guilt shot down his spine as he recalled his feelings about leaving the castle. They had been less than pleasant.

It hadn't been his fault - there was simply too much responsibility after the time he'd had for himself at school. After the months of being allowed to simply be a child, the return to the mere shadow of what his sister used to be and the role of an eldest brother. To the delicate balance, where he could not be Abe's father and yet, there was no one else to fill that role for his younger siblings.

But when he got home, worn out from the long train journey, he was pleasantly surprised to see that Aberforth seemed to have been dealing with his absence well. Of course, he wasn't completely competent but he had taken on the responsibility his older brother usually carried and had tried his best…and he had actually done okay. He remembered the way his little brother's face flushed with pride when he had complimented him. He was proud of how his little brother was turning out; Albus was sure he would be a fine wizard once he had some schooling to get his magic under control.

One week into the holidays, Albus decided to go for a walk. He knew well enough that Aberforth would be fine. If he had managed an entire term of Albus' absence, then he could survive a short walk.

It turned out to be a long walk.

As he left the oppressive quiet of his home, he welcomed the shrieks and squeals of the children playing outside. It couldn't have been more different to the peaceful grounds of Hogwarts, however, the inside of Hogwarts was not hushed like his home was.

He was walking down the street, looking around the quaint village after his long absence, when a head of blond hair from Bathilda Bagshot's garden distracted him. A lean, young man was stood in the middle-aged witch's garden. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up past his elbows. His hands were pristine compared to the worn shovel he was digging with and Albus couldn't help but stare at the fingers when they flexed around the handle. "Are you new here?" A voice called out. It came from the blond. The voice had an accent but he couldn't quite pin it. Eastern European; of that he was sure. He arched his eyebrow at the question, he certainly was not 'new here'. If anyone was 'new here', it was the blond.

"No, I'm not," he called out in reply. The blond nodded and looked at him through narrowed eyes. Albus felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny. Not many could make him feel like that. He prided himself on staying cool under the inquisitive gazes of his teachers at school, but this young man had unravelled his ability to think straight in a matter of moments. It wasn't normal.

"You go to Hogwarts," he said slowly. It was a statement but it felt like a question. Whatever it was, Albus hastened to agree.

"Yes, I'm in Gryffindor," he said with a smile. Gryffindor was the best house. Bravery was needed to make leaps and bounds in life. The summer sun was beating down on the back of his neck; he hoped that the drops of sweat he could feel beading on the top of his lip weren't visible.

"I am a former student of Durmstrang." Albus frowned, the boy looked the same age as him…if he was a former student then he had to be at least seventeen - well, if Durmstrang worked the way Hogwarts did.

The boy seemed to notice Albus' confusion and said, "I was expelled." The boy laughed and Albus realised he had taken a step backwards without realising it. "There's no need to be scared of me. I was expelled for simply experimenting with magic. Dark magic." He paused and rolled his eyes. "All magic is dark magic depending on the intent behind its casting." He was right, Albus supposed. Any magic could be dark magic. He looked at the young man before him with new eyes. Although he was young, he carried a philosophical air about him. And, Albus had to admit. The thought of him playing around with dark and dangerous magic was…attractive.

"My name is Albus," he said, abruptly changing the subject before his mind wandered into dangerous territories. He walked closer to the garden, his hand outstretched so the blond could shake it. A high pitched squeal met his ears and thundering footsteps came closer. Albus turned around just in time to see a group of children running towards him. He stepped forward quickly to avoid colliding with them and cursed under his breath.

"What was that?" the boy asked, looking amused.

"I said filthy little Mudbloods," Albus growled.

"We seem to have the same views." He spoke slowly as if he was waiting for Albus' reaction to his words. "My name is Gellert." Gellert. Albus rolled the name around in his mind and smirked. The origin of it was Hungarian, he was sure. So definitely Eastern European. And his name literally meant 'brave with spear'. Bravery was a precious trait- his mind flicked back to the brief mention of 'experimenting with magic'- and Gellert definitely possessed it.

They met 'accidentally' a few times after that. Then, the meetings became more regular, the two of them organising when to see each other again. It was during one of those meetings that Gellert made a suggestion.

"Albus, we've done it," Gellert muttered. He didn't sound excited but Albus knew the gleam in his eyes all too well. The green smoke coming from the potion in the copper cauldron matched the predictions Albus had made with arithmancy. It was finished. They had invented a new healing potion! Gellert turned to him and his face was awash with pride. Albus felt his face heat up at the adoring gaze being bestowed upon him and fought to regain control of his emotions. When Gellert smiled and flung his arms around him, Albus gave up and returned the hug. "You are brilliant," Gellert murmured, his lips brushing his temple.

He bit his lip to stop himself from groaning and whispered, "I think you are." Gellert squeezed him a bit tighter and then released him with a grin.

"Then we are amazing." He said with a chuckle. "Think about it, Albus. If we can make a new healing potion, we can do anything!"

Albus, feeling a bit dejected from the loss of contact, muttered, "We can't do anything. We're only teenagers." Talented ones, Albus admitted to himself, but all the same, teenagers.

Gellert's eyes gleamed. "We are teenage wizards lest you forget. Not ordinary Mudblood teenagers that can't see past their own noses." He said the last sentence with disgust and Albus had to smirk at the passion in his voice. Their views on the positions Mudbloods should have in their society were identical. Non-existent. "Albus," He said slowly, taking a step closer to him. "We are wizards. And we just invented a new healing potion. We have achieved more than most adult wizards, more than the _Minister_ of this country. We could rule this country if we wanted to."

Albus chuckled and nodded quickly, trying not to show his nerves at his close proximity to the other wizard. "If we were interested in doing that, then we could."

"Of course, we could," said Gellert gently, and placed his hand on Albus' shoulder. "Just imagine it. We could keep our kind safe from Mudbloods - we both know they have too many rights." Albus nodded in agreement. The plan sounded good.

"We'd have to wait till we're older, though," he said with a laugh.

"There's nothing that can stop us from making our plans now. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." Albus, once again, could not disagree.

And so they had planned. Pouring themselves into every detail and jumping at any chance to explore a new idea. The end result had been a rough overview of their plans. Gellert had promised to visit his great-aunt when the next holidays arrived- the garden they had first met in, belonged to her- to extend on their plans and to see what they could actually carry out at their age, the next time they met.

For once, Albus actually looked forward to going home.

* * *

As he watched the first stars appear in the sky, he realised the vastness of the universe. The line of trees that marked the beginning of the forest were no longer visible, reminding him of the power of light and dark. He was only one man in the cosmos, and he would have to do great things to truly make a difference in it. He would have to make prodigious changes to be remembered. It was as if the universe had conspired for the meeting of their great minds. It was as if it was meant to be. Destiny had brought them together. And the two of them had recognised the opportunity presented to them and were going to make the most of it.

* * *

Albus swallowed grimly, his jaw set. He had been so proud, so passionate, about the plans he had made with Gellert. Grindelwald. He had been enamoured with the young man, had let him influence and manipulate him. Albus should have known that there was something wrong in the summer after he graduated from Hogwarts, when Gellert, who had permanently moved in with Bathilda Bagshot, lied about knowing him. Albus had been confused but Gellert had smoothed away his suspicions.

"My great-aunt does not possess the same views as you and I. If she knew that we had met before, she would want to know how we knew each other and I'd have to tell her about our plans. I moved here for you Albus; I don't want us to be separated."

His breath had hitched when the blond spoke the last sentence, desperately trying not to get his hopes up about what it meant. But when Gellert took one step towards him, then another, he knew what was coming.

The kiss had been soft, quickly turning fervent and firm, and when Gellert pulled away, Albus was breathless and completely his. All thoughts, apart from what had just happened, left his mind. Suspicious or otherwise.

The bravery he had thought the young man to possess was simply blind, destructive hate. Hate that had made him do reckless things- and Albus had mistaken it for bravery.

His name represented the values he held dear; the huge part of his identity he had gained since beginning his studies at Hogwarts. Bravery. But how could he have overlooked the horror the second part of his name held? Grindelwald. The first part, Grindel, to plough, just like he had that first day- where he had captured Albus' attention with his bright blond hair and pristine hands. And Wald, wood, trees. All things natural and peaceful.

His name actually meant to usurp everything that was natural. And Albus had happily assisted with that. But now, he had broken free of the manipulations of the dark wizard. It had cost him dearly, but he had. Even if he woke more often than not with a shout. It usually took him few minutes to calm down and then realise, that _it's just a dream_ was no comfort. The images that plagued him in his sleep were not mere nightmares, but memories. He had lost both his siblings on that horrible day. He had lost them in different ways, but nevertheless, they were both gone.

He had been blind and it had cost him, but now he could see. And he was going to foil the very plans he had felt such passion for. But he was willing to make sacrifices. He felt pride at the fact that he was standing up to the force that had blinded him and made him turn to darkness. It felt like everything was coming full circle; Albus was proud that he would be ending the story.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed!**


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